The unspoken promise in your kiss
by Jenuefa
Summary: A book has led Sarah into the Underground the first time. A book will lead her into the Underground the secound time. This book is no fairytale. This is more real than she expected. Although she didn't know what to expect, what she becomes is real. Real is the pressure of his lips, the scent as he leans in..and she tastes the bitter echo of the slap that awakes her.
1. Chapter 1

The unspoken promise in your kiss

Of all the beauty and grace

in one's intimate touch

there are tales to be told

worth more a library could fill

Ever the essence is still

the unspoken promise

that starts your chase

Chapter One

Trough papers untold and teacups unnumbered, Gerald Smith had fought his way there to the cosy chair behind the reception to take back that book, that had stolen his attention. Sighing he pulled the many times patched blanket over his lap and swung up his feet to rest on the small stool in front of the chair. His eyes had already found the passage were he had stopped reading this morning. Fascinating it was, how such an unspectacular novel could still gain his interest. It was a simple story. Written in a very easy English and the storyline was predictable. Yet he didn't blame the author for that. It wasn't an easy task to surprise someone, who had read as many books as he had. He was a librarian after all and an old one ,too. How old you ask? Very old.. Seeing him you wouldn't think he'd be vain about telling his real age. His skin was freckled and wrinkled. His eyebrows seemingly longer than his ears were big. And for long he had given up to chase the present fashion. His fanciest pair of trousers lay in multiplicity numbers in his cupboard. But compared to his age he was quite fit as a fiddle and way young looking. You wouldn't believe it. All you have to know is, that he is old.

The clattering of the little door bell rang through the building. Here in his hidden corner behind the reception it was only a dim sound, easy to miss. Gerald however never missed it. It was as if he'd always be on his heels to hear it. One hand instantly clutched the small pendant ,that hung on his neck at all times. The other fumbled blindly for the baseball bat next to him. This wooden weapon wouldn't help much, if they would come for him. Although he was painfully aware of that, he felt more safe with it. In the past years it had been of help at least. Those foolish boys had scared the hell out of him not only once. He had been relieved to discover they had been mere schoolboys. Spoilt and stupid, but still only little boys that were looking for trouble. Gerald knew they made fun of him. As soon as they had discovered how easily Gerald was terrified, they had made a sport out of it. After a few times it had become an annoyance. He had become used to it. Yet Gerald was not so foolish to take it for granted. One faithful day that bell would not announce an annoyance. One day they would find him. Guarded with his old-established weapon he stole his way ,as quiet as he could manage, into the corridors of the book shelves. Tiptoeing closer to the entrance door, using the gaps smaller books enabled to peak to the door. The small bell at the edge of the frame still shivered slightly. But the door was closed and he couldn't see anyone. Gripping his pendant more firmly Gerald took the corner of the parallel shelf, which led further into the library's centre. Whoever had come in would have to pass there. But the corridor was empty. Whispering a curse, Gerald decided to walk the whole building through. He could sense the fear crawling up his spine.

They could be everywhere. They would hover in a corner. They would wait to catch him off guard. No, no they wouldn't make this easy for him. Another dead alley showed itself to him. Delusional images crossed his inner eye. The only sound Gerald could hear was his own ragged breathing, as he turned slowly to look over his shoulder. THERE! Only the shelf in front of him hid him. With the back turned to him a long haired person seemed to scan the bookshelf opposite the shelf ,he was hiding behind. The baseball bat fell soundly to the wooden floor. Damned he was. Now they knew where he was. The raven haired head on the other side of the shelf turned briefly. Gerald's heart skipped a beat. Preparing himself for whatever they'd do now. Unable to move, unable to think now that the day had come. Now that the moment had come. The moment they would finally sentence him. After so many years of running, hiding, fearing of what they would do to him. "Good day, Mr Smith.", a gentle female voice said. Good..? Gerald swallowed, his dry throat nearly hurt. Skulking he made himself walk to the shelf's end. Cautiously he peaked around the corner. The lovely yet defined features of Sarah Williams face looked up to regard him with a kind smile. "Do you have any new books, Mr Smith?" That girl would kill him before they ever got a chance to! Letting the relief settle over him, Gerald tried to pull his expression together. "New books? New books?! Don't make me laugh, child.", he spat. He didn't really mean to say it the way he had. But frankly, he was happy to catch himself so quickly. "Huh,..I guessed so", Sarah sighed. Shrugging, she turned to the shelf again. Scanning the books with mild interest. If there was someone that had read nearly every book of the library besides Gerald, it would be this girl. Gerald knew her since she could read at all. She had spend hours here reading silently. Always taking a few books home and exchanging them against others, when she came. Howbeit she didn't come as often as she had when she was younger, she still came in every week, if only briefly. Gerald supposed she must have gotten involved in her studies and had less time to read. "I didn't mean to offend you, Mr Smith. I was just wondering if.. You had a nice fantasy department once. Have you rearranged the books? I can't find them.", she mused. While she was talking she moved the shelf up, as if she'd find these books somewhere in between. What Sarah didn't know was, that he had taken these certain books away. She was much too nosy for Gerald's taste. And after all these years he had thought she had long forgotten about them. Naturally she couldn't forget about one of them. That girl! Right under his nose she had taken the book and never brought it back. Normally he would have pulled everyone's ear for stealing from his library. However this girl with her piercing eyes and he had come to an unspoken understatement. Even if he would never admit it, Sarah had charmed him. His grumpy, peculiar manner threw ice on anyone that had found his way into this library. Usually he was treated with the same ignorant behaviour, he emanated. Sparing of words people would lend books, after looking for them on their own. Not daring to ask him, happy when they didn't have to exchange a word with him. Sarah on the other hand has never been appalled by his air. They silently accepted the others presence. Sarah would hover over the books, talking to him without expecting him to answer nor judging it. Sometimes he even wondered whether she cared if he even listened. And he would peacefully read or do his job. If Sarah cared so much about that book, he would let her have it. But as soon as he had noticed it was gone, he had taken the others away. Best to keep it out of her reach. Somehow Gerald couldn't stand the idea of that girl getting hurt.

The old man kept an eye on Sarah from the corner of his eye. As he walked back to retrieve the baseball bat, he called: "People tent to put the books into the wrong shelves, child. You'll have to search for a while." He didn't get an answer. So he decided to head back to his book behind the reception.


	2. Foreign shadows

Chapter 2

Gerald read a view pages, letting the words drip over him without really realising what they said. Yet it helped him to relax again.

Page after page he settled deeper into the chair. The noise of books being pulled out and stuffed back into shelves soon slithered to the background.

His hand still held the triangular pendant.

Exaggerated Sarah brushed her long hair out of her face. Biting her lower lip she gazed at the long shelves.

It was a labyrinth made of books. Covers that read titles she knew, but didn't want. How was she supposed to find these books?

There were thousands of books. In this mess, were no book was were it should be.

She never had minded, that Mr Smith didn't seem to care much about regime.

Actually she loved finding books by accident. Because they stood randomly next to each other no matter to which topic they belonged.

This way she had found 'The Labyrinth'. But at that time there had been a hint of order. At least so much that she knew there had been other books next to it. Books that had looked as ancient as the little red book, she loved so.

Not to mention what 'The Labyrinth' had had to offer for her, it had given her an escape. In her wildest dreams Sarah couldn't have prophesied how real it had turned out to be. (Though this could also be a lie, given that back then she had imagined rather often to get away from her real life.) Sarah had thought about her adventure often during the past years. Contemplating it over and over again. The older she got the more different opinions had come to her mind. It had been thoroughly a lesson. It had been a wake-up call in the sweetest sense. She had always been a dreamer. Adoring fantastic tales and magical creatures. Bringing her to a world, that inhabited all this, had been the only way to get her attention.

It had been a lesson she'd never forget. She had listened. And she had changed afterwards.

Sarah no longer had taken anything for granted so fast. But most of all she had become sensible with words. The balance of knowing whether to trust someone or to question someone was the toughest one. _Things are not always what they seem to be._

In the labyrinth it could be an endless alley, that really had multiple openings. Here in Sarah's life a person could be your best friend, that sleeps with your boyfriend. For her distrusting everyone was exhausting and depressing. It kind of was more in Sarah's nature to believe in the good thing in a person first. That way she had kept her ability to make friends easily. Those of them that didn't deserve her trust, would filter out sooner or later.

The morning after her remarkable adventure life had gone on, as if it never had happened. Sarah had went on with life ,always keeping in mind what the labyrinth had taught her.

She looked after her brother more attentive than before.

She went out with friends.

She met new people.

Sarah gave her best to achieve a place at a good university.

She studied and used her free time to read.

But Sarah didn't make plans. She just couldn't grasp the idea of having something to reach.

A goal that would hold her onto this world. It was as if she felt her life wasn't meant to go on here.

Maybe showing her another world really existed, one she dreamed of, one that fascinated her hadn't been good for her. Since it had inflamed a lust for more.

Sarah had spent hours searching the library. Scanning the shelves, taking books out that appeared like the ones she was looking for.

But every title, every book she had had in her hands disappointed her. Such a big library and she had looked at each and every shelf.

Nearly at the end of her patience she decided to give it a rest for today. She walked to the end of the building once more to say goodbye to Mr. Smith.

Only to discover him sleeping soundly, slopping in his favoured chair behind the reception. Wrapped in his blanket he looked like a twee ,nice grandpa.

Though Sarah knew he was anything but that.

"You have put them away, haven't you?", she mused to the sleeping man.

He stirred, knocking his book over the chairs arm. Shaking her head Sarah retrieved the book and put it on the surface of the reception, when her eyes fell on the back room. The door was opened to a small gap. It gave insight to a room full of other book shelves.

_That tricky old rat. _

She checked on Mr Smith briefly. He hadn't moved any further, his eyes firmly shut.

On silent feet Sarah stole her way to the room. Cautiously opening the door wider to slip in, in case it would creak.

The tiny room was stuffed with books and papers. Opposite the shelf ,she had seen, was a desk with a single chair. Briefcases and files were orderly sorted on top of it.

But Sarah turned her attention on the shelf instead. The books here looked much older than all the others in the library.

Though they weren't the newest, they couldn't live up to the age of these examples. Anxiously she let her fingers run over the dusty covers.

One in particular screamed to be picked up. It's cover was of a dark azure blue. But it had no title. Intrigued she turned it over.

No, only this simply leathery blue cover was visible. The edges were battered and the bound seemed to have suffered from being opened a lot of times.

Sarah clutched it to her chest and looked at the shelf again. She was sure the books she had been looking for were all in here. They all looked ancient.

Sarah's fingers tingled. It had been too long since she had felt so excited.

But as if by magic her eyes fell down to the mysterious book in her arms. The papers scratching was loud and promising in this silence.

She felt the world shrink around her. There was only this book and her.

The text was handwritten in black ink. Between the lines careless spots had been wiped dry.

Most of the pages contained small passages, leaving lots of the paper untouched. Some pages were filled till the last free space, written sideways and over other sentences. Squeezed into little gaps single words dominated whole passages. But she couldn't tell what they said.

The writing itself was delicate and baroque, which didn't help much. The words she were able to distinguish weren't of a language she had ever read before. Curious Sarah took the pages into her free hand and let them slowly fall onto the other side.

In between the flipping pages a pair of eyes caught her sight.

Shocked Sarah stopped and raised. Right in front of her stood Mr Smith gazing at her with dangerously, tight pressed lips.

His eyes were dark and a sparkle of fury was the only light in them.

"You shouldn't read that one. A book's meant to be read. That one's not. That one's a curse!"

Sarah starred back at him, inhaling deeply. _Boy, was she in trouble!_

"Mr. Smith, I'm..I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."

"Of course you meant to, silly girl!", the old man interrupted, "These books are not loanable. You better keep your hands off them. Otherwise I can't keep you out of trouble...not this time."

Sarah winced at that. Out of the sudden all she wanted was to leave. _Run!_

Biding one more "I'm really sorry.", she backed away. Nearly tripping over her own feet, Sarah hurried down the long corridors of shelves. But before she could escape out the entrance door, she felt someone pulling at the book she still embraced out of her grip.

Jerking to the side, she saw Mr Smith clutching the azure blue cover. _How had he reached the door so fast? _

"Remember. I can't help you this time." He warned, his voice a hoarse, terribly calm tone. Sarah nod and ran.

O.o..o.. ..o.o.o.o.o. O o o

When Sarah walked home her usual way, there was something unusual following her.

She took the long way through the tunnel, that led past the park.

She liked this path. Especially in the evenings. Then most of the people were at home and she had it for her own.

The sun was about to set. The gloomy orange sky flooded the seemingly black trees with colour.

Feeling the cold wind breach her cheek, Sarah was glad about her huge scarf. She had thought it was much too big first. She could wrap it around her neck five times, making her look like a Inuit with its bright red textile. But as she refrained from wearing nothing thicker than her jeans jacket , the scarf was handy in warming her.

Unconsciously Sarah's hand stroke pattern on the ancient wrapper of the book, she held firmly pressed to her chest.

With any other book she would have started to read by now. She knew the way by heart and often walked home from the library with her eyes rather on the pages than the way. But the bound looked fragile, so she feared some pages would fall out.

Now that it was finally in her possession, she wouldn't let anything harm it. It was hers.

A quivering smile hushed over her lips as she thought about her victory.

Poor Mr Smith wouldn't even notice the book was missing. He'd be much too busy retiring from chasing the schoolboys. Those children had been much too eager, when she had asked them to distract the librarian for a while.

She wouldn't have dared to simply walk in and get it, after his threat. He had been serious. She could still feel the anger emanating from him.

However she had pondered about whether to let it be or find a way to get a hold of it.

Whether to listen to the old man or to disregard the word of a long time companion.

But she couldn't think of any harm a bunch of bonded papers could possibly do to her.

Besides she needed to read it. Her dreams consisted of it, as if it were calling for her.

O.o..o.. ..o.o.o.o.o. O o o

On an unspectacular evening as this the setting sun flooded the park with her colourful ,light plays.

Where the light had no access to intense shadows grew.

Through the tunnel near the park maundered a young woman cuddling a book like her most precious possession. Maybe she was too deep in thought. Perhaps she didn't give her surroundings as much attention.

Because the huge shadow that followed her on the tunnels wall ,where the sun threw its playful light, didn't match her silhouette in the slightest.

The shadow was a good deal too tall. The nose far too long and even.

Instead of long flipping strands of hair, the shadow showed choppy, feral hair that stuck out unevenly.


End file.
